


still echo in the sunlight

by starblessed



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Johnny Martin Is A Squirrel, M/M, Morning Routines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: When Bull gets there, Johnny's up a tree, hollering.“Doin’ alright there, Johnny?” he drawls, taking a few steps towards the tree. Johnny’s wild eyes lock on him.“Whose dog is that? Who the hell’s dog is that?”
Relationships: Johnny Martin/Bull Randleman
Kudos: 19





	still echo in the sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, the characters in this fic are based off of their fictional portrayals from the miniseries Band of Brothers, and I mean no disrespect to the real-life veterans!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!

As soon as Bull jogs up the path to find Johnny halfway up a tree, he realizes that today isn’t going to be a normal Monday morning.

Very few things can freak Johnny out so badly that he has to climb a tree just to get away. Clowns, for one thing. (Bull still remembers the afternoon a few members of the local circus troupe were handing out balloons in the park. It took him an hour to coax Johnny down from the branches.) A really bold squirrel picking a fight with him has been known to accomplish it on more than one occasion. The only thing Bull can think of that would really get to Johnny, however, and leave him looking like that, is…

 _“Bull!”_ Johnny’s voice rings out, on just the right end of shrill. “Get this thing away from me!”

A dog, Bull thinks, eyes landing on the animal bouncing around at the foot of the tree. He’s an adorable dog – all golden blonde and curly, with long ears and bright eyes. He’s more of a puppy, really, with the energy to match. He’s so eager to catch up to Johnny, convinced his new friend is playing some sort of exciting game, that he keeps making jumps for the lower-hanging branches. When he almost catches one, Johnny makes a weird noise and draws his leg up higher. His arms are locked around his branch in a death grip.

Bull isn’t a fan of getting out of the house at this hour on a weekday, but at least these early morning runs are always interesting.

“Doin’ alright there, Johnny?” he drawls, taking a few steps towards the tree. Johnny’s wild eyes lock on him.

“Whose dog is that? Who the hell’s dog is that?”

That’s a good question. The dog is well-groomed, and wearing a bright red collar – without any dog tags. He’s obviously got a home. The question of finding his owner remains the more challenging problem, however.

As soon as the dog notices Bull, who is ground-level and seems much more eager to play, he loses interest in Johnny. Just a few seconds later Bull finds himself on his knees, subjected to a full-body inspection by the pup’s very curious nose. He scratches behind his ears, and is rewarded with a few enthusiastic licks in return. A fair trade, he thinks, and chuckles as the dog tries to clamber in his lap. He loves puppies.

“Bull?” calls Johnny, voice strained. Bull looks up to see him trying to shimmy his way down from the tree, with much hesitation.

“Come down before you break your back,” Bull advises, and watches Johnny almost topple sideways. “Need some help?”

“No, I got it. I got it.”

When Johnny gets himself into tight spots, he never wants any help pulling himself out; he won’t accept it. That’s one of the things Bull admires about him the most. Even if his stubbornness can get him into a lot of trouble, Johnny never gives in when he’s had enough.

By the time Johnny is at last on the ground again, Bull has won the dog’s official Seal of Puppy Approval. He turns his attention to Johnny as soon as he notices him within pouncing range again, but Bull’s firm grip on his collar kept the pup from getting too close. Johnny ventures a few steps nearer, still keeping his distance, and eyes the animal warily.

“That thing could have rabies.”

“He ain’t showing it,” Bull replies. It’s a perfectly healthy dog, and they both know it. “Where’d he come from?”

“Behind some bushes. Just came out of nowhere at me. I swear, Bull.”

A tiny smirk tugs at Bull’s lips. “Told you not to run ahead.”

When Johnny frowns at him, Bull can’t help but chuckle. His boyfriend is pouting, and Johnny would be very offended if he told him he found it adorable. He can’t help it, however – he lives treasuring these little moments, because who knows when he’ll get the chance to enjoy them again?

Just before Johnny can open his mouth to speak again, a shout suddenly rings out through the park.

“Wednesday? Wednesday!”

“It’s Monday, matter of fact,” Bull remarks to the harried looking young man who comes sprinting down the path towards them. Wide eyes lock on the dog at their feet; the man screeches to a stop. “Wednesday!” he exclaims again.

The dog greets him like he’s been reunited with his best friend, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that he has. The relief on the kid’s face is telling, just as much as the way he embraces the pup like a lost child whose just found his mother in the store. He doesn’t say anything while hugging him, but when he pulls back he cups the dog’s face as if he never wants to let go.

“Wednesday, you scared me,” he murmurs, in a voice almost too low to hear. “Never do that again, please?”

“You ever heard of a leash?” Johnny snaps, jolting the kid’s focus from his dog to Wednesday’s two dubious rescuers. He straightens up. Large blue eyes take in Johnny’s pissed off face before deciding that Bull’s neutral expression is safer.

“Sorry, he got off. I just looked away for one second…” He bites his lip, hanging his head. “He’s a new dog. My first. I want… I want to take care of him right.”

Bull can empathize with that. He’s had enough pets that he knows you bond with them faster than an ice cube melts in a pot of boiling water. The young man’s earnestness shines through his face, even as he brandished a threadbare leash. Bull frowns at it, before holding out his hand.

“Mind if I take a look?”

He hands it over without a word. Bull studies the hook of the leash, squeaking it back and forth. Just as he thought – it’s almost too rusty to close. Wednesday could get off this with just a little determined wiggling, and next time he could end up somewhere a lot worse than gallivanting through the local park.

“You need to shine up this hook, see? ’S all rusted. Next time you try to close it, I reckon your dog won’t have a hard time getting free. All you need to do is get the rust off and it should be fine – a little soak in vinegar should manage that.”

The guy listens to him with a rapt expression, nodding his head every so often. He’s got a look in his eye, like he’s absorbing every word Bull’s saying and committing it to memory until the end of time. It makes his gaze feel more intense than he probably means it too.

A strangled noise from behind Bull tells him that Wednesday is trying to make friends with Johnny again. He doesn’t glance back. “‘Til then, suggest you keep him from running off anymore. He could end up someplace bad.”

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry.” The young man comes to Johnny’s rescue by lunging for his dog, seizing him around the collar and tugging him back. Unable to hide his grin, Bull hands the leash back to him. “Thanks a lot. I appreciate the help.”

“No problem. He’s a good dog.”

Bull watches the young man stagger off down the path, led along by Wednesday, until they’re nearly out of sight. Only then (deeming this a safe distance between him and the dog) does Johnny join him.

“That’s it. No more running today, I’m going home.”

“And here I thought this was your favorite part of the morning.” Bull isn’t disappointed. Spending time with Johnny at home is more fun that trying to catch up with him as he runs ahead, even if he does get to enjoy the view of Johnny in tight jogging pants. If his boyfriend wants to go home, Bull will be glad to oblige.

“Don’t worry,” he says, slipping his arm around Johnny’s waist. “We get attacked by any more rogue dogs, I promise I’ll fight ‘em off for ya.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, but Bull catches sight of the smirk tugging at his lips.


End file.
